How To Get Angel Wings
by Runaway Fantasy Princess
Summary: Nobody knew what to expect when Doc's grandniece suddenly emerged from the woodwork. Certainly it wasn't her stealing the hearts of the rowdy fraternal twins or being chosen by God on the very night they were selected for the same reason. Every Saint needs an Angel, right?
1. New Bartender

A long time ago, maybe fifty years past, there were three brothers by the name of McGinty. One brother stayed home in Ireland to take care of his parents. The other two, the eldest and the youngest, felt the call of America. When they skipped over the pond, the brothers kept together for ten long years until the youngest brother fell in love with a beautiful girl from Moldova. The youngest brother and his soon-to-be Russian bride left his brother behind in Boston for Chicago. In Illinois they were married and had four children.

Fast forwards to present day and you have a twenty-two year old girl yawning as she descends the stairs from a late morning. The old man at the bar looked up as she approached. Only a few months prior did he find out that he even had a grand-niece. He already loved her though. "Good morning, Uncle Norman," she all but chirped, hopping onto the counter. Her legs kicked rhythmically under her careful not to slam the heels of her well-worn work boots into the wood.

Doc couldn't help smile back. "Good mornin', dear," he replied, cleaning a glass with an off colored rag.

Glancing around the old pub Samantha felt a ping of responsibility. "Do you need any help, Uncle Norm? That was the whole reason your letting me live with you, right?" Well, she admitted to herself, that may be why he's letting me stay with him but that's not why I'm here.

His happy expression twitched into a frown. "Oh, darlin', I would've even ef you couldna lift-t-t a fi-fin-fin- _Fuck! Ass!_- oh, you don' need ta do anythin'." She didn't flinch at his outburst. She didn't react at all the first time either when she arrived yesterday fresh off the greyhound just after the pub closed. You see, the elderly Irish gentleman had a little problem in his head. He had Tourette's which caused him to shout two particular words which just happen to be the unfortunate Grade- A curses.

Suddenly she touched his arm with a soft gentleness she rarely displayed. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For everything. And I promise that I'm going to return the favor somehow, no and's, if's, or but's about it, okay?" He rolled his eyes muttering about how the goddamned stubbornness runs in the family making her grin wide.

After her little promise Sam was on the hunt for a broom. Anything to help her uncle. She finally found one that had probably seen better days in the dusty closet. Not minding the splintery handle she began sweeping the straw across the floor. It worked better than she had anticipated and that lifted her sparkling mood further. Today was freaking fantastic. Uncle Norman was so cool, the room he set up for her was perfect, Boston was lovely, everything was going her way.

She was given a crash course on the beverage selection and how to work the machines. It was pretty easy, partially because he was so patient with the young girl and partially because she was no stranger to alcohol.

No sooner had she finished preparing for customers than they began trickling in. Uncle Norman wanted her behind the bar for a while, just so she could get used to the usual crowd under his supervision so she obediently hurried over to stand beside him. She wanted to stay good on her promise and not the one she had spoken to him that morning; the one she had made to herself: I would be a good girl. I wouldn't let my past haunt me here and I wouldn't cause any trouble.

Business was going smoothly. The guys seemed to approve of her skills since they kept on asking for more. It was a chill but happy atmosphere that she adored. When she was younger and everything was going smoothly at home, she would stay up until three o'clock in the morning hanging out with the adults.

I think I'm really going to like living with my Uncle Norman a hell of a lot more than anywhere else I've been, she decided.

The twins walked into their favorite Irish pub to be greeted by their bar buddies' cheers. Once the pleasantries were exchanged they were glad to sit down on the same bar seats they claimed since the first time they found this wondrous place.

"Ah, b-boys!" The elderly bartender grinned at his preferred customers. They were practically sons to him and he could never bear to charge them as much as they drank. No other was allowed such a privilege.

Conner mock-saluted him. "Evenin', Doc." They didn't even have to ask, Doc poured them their drinks. That was how often they came in.

Murphy glanced down the bar and saw a young woman dressed simply in a long sleeved tee and loose jeans smiling at some blokes who were obviously trying to flirt with her. Instantly he liked the curve of her slender neck and the coffee creamer color of her smooth skin. Conner noticed his brother's staring. "Murph, you alright?"

The darker haired twin shook his head free of the fantasies that he had conjured up about what he would do to that neck if he ever go the chance. "Yeah, I'm fine. Say, Doc, who's the new bartender ya've got workin' over there?" He pointed down the counter as the girl rolled her eyes and shook her head, making the long brown braid hanging down her back flutter as it followed her movements.

The old man's chest puffed in pride. "That's me grand-niece, Samantha." He turned away from them to shout, "Sam! Samantha, come down 'ere."

The woman gladly excused herself and jogged over grinned broadly at her uncle. "Yes, Uncle Norman?" She stopped about a foot from him clasping her hands behind her back. Her voice was sweet as she spoke to him, her dark lashes brushing her pretty cheekbones whenever she blinked.

"Darlin', I-I want ya ta meet me favorite MacManus boys." He put a gentle hand on her lower back and nodded to the brothers.

When she turned to them at last Murphy couldn't resist the awe that overtook him. She was even more beautiful up close! Her black framed eyes were such a vibrant green that reminded both men of the rolling hill of their beloved homeland. The black t-shirt she wore wasn't tight but stretched across her breasts that weren't too big and weren't too small and the fabric was pulled down over the top of her jeans where it clung to her sensual hips.

Her curvy pink lips untouched by paint were giving them a shy smile. Murphy was thrilled by the fact that she didn't were make-up. He'd always hated it and how it always got in the way. He didn't want to get off a girl wearing the gunk himself. "Hi, I'm Sam," she introduced herself.

The brothers grinned at her. "I'm Conner and this here's me brother Murphy." He clapped his hand on the suddenly tongue-tied Murphy. All he could manage was a curt nod while the tips of his ears turned red. He was thankful that his hair was just shaggy enough at the moment to cover them.

She chuckled, a low husky sound. "A pleasure, I'm sure." The guys at the other end called her back for refills so she headed back throwing a cheerful "duty calls," over her shoulder.

Doc noticed the way their eyes trailed after his niece. "She's d-delicate. Like a flower." The old man lowered his glasses down his nose to give them both a pointed glare. From what he had seen his niece was fragile and soft and he didn't want anyone to hurt her or else she might shatter into a million fragments. He had no idea.

"I'm sure she is," Conner said, smirking at his drink. "And how old would this 'delicate flower' be?" Sure, she was beautiful, but he knew his brother fancied her. He wasn't going to go chasing her skirt if his twin had a thing for her. That would not be a very intelligent move on his part if he did.

Doc racked his old cobweb filled brain. "Well- uh, let-t-t's see. Ets April now, May… Sh-She'll be twenty-three next Jun-ne."

Murphy had not heard either one of them. He was too busy watching Samantha. Once she was done serving the increasingly tipsy guys at her end she perched herself up on a stool one long jean sheathed leg crossed over the other. On her knee she balanced a notepad her pencil poised over the paper.

She had the sudden urge to sketch but now as she was fully prepared to release the art trapped in her mind she was drawing a blank. Her shoulders slumped slightly in bewilderment. There wasn't a time in her life she could remember not having a single idea in her head. It had always been a busy place, thoughts and questions and pictures constantly whizzing around.

What was she so shocked about? Murphy wondered. She sat in the same position but now her mouth was open slightly while her eyes stared blankly at the wood in front of her. Suddenly her mouth snapped shut and she scanned the pub with an unexplainable ferocity.

When her gaze landed upon the paler twin, he didn't duck his head or avert his eyes. He just cocked his head to the side, brow creasing as if he was trying to process some complicated math equation. _Perfect._ She smirked at her new subject before she began marking the paper in long strokes.

Ink soon formed shapes. Two casual men sort of slouching over the counter appeared first, then Sam put in more details as to who they were. One was facing slightly in the other direction so you could only see enough of his face to know he was laughing. Starting at his where his shoulder blades would sit she created a series of lines that in whole made a curve.

Her face was intent as she scratched at the paper. Mouth was set in a perfectly straight line, green irises blazing, so focused. Murphy heard one of the men she was serving call her name and he smirked when he saw the dark expression cross her features for a split second. Sighing, she set the pad aside with her pen on top. She lingered for just a heartbeat but it was enough time for Murphy to see her fingertips brush lovingly down the page.

"Conner," his twin out of nowhere said, smacking his chest lightly while he looked at something over the bar.

Glad to see he wasn't panting after that girl anymore Conner ignored the fact that his brother wasn't paying attention or that he hit him. "What?"

Murph opened his mouth then closed it. What did he want? The pad? He didn't think Samantha would appreciate that very much. Finally he found a cover up. "Is Rocco here yet, man?"

His brother squinted at him. "No, not yet, man. You alright?" It wasn't often that the darker haired twin acted weird and Conner couldn't say he liked being out of the loop. It was pointless asking though. Murphy just shrugged and took another swig from his Guinness.

That's when Conner noticed that his own glass was empty. Doc was in the midst of a big order so the sandy haired man waved his arm. "Hey, Samantha!" He felt Murphy stiffen beside him.

Her head slowly lifted and she smiled when she saw who was calling her name. She put up a finger signaling she would be with him in just a moment. He nodded and sat back in his seat patiently. Sam slid the glasses over to their customers and wiped her hands on a rag as she approached the brothers.

"Hey, guys, whatcha need?" She asked brightly, leaning her elbows on the counter in front of them. It was a good thing she didn't wear anything with a plunging neckline.

Conner waved his glass, smirking. She reached over and snatched it from him, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. "I'll get you your fix, Irishman, don't you worry," she teased while she waited for the amber liquid to rise. Luckily for her she was accustomed to machines so figuring out the tab was easy as sin.

An errant thought flashed through Murphy's head. He could easily see Samantha fitting in back home in Ireland, causing a raucous with their old friends from before they left for America, whispering to the older patrons and making them laugh at whatever she shared. She could probably fit in just about anywhere.

He realized that his glass was missing something and that the new bartender was walking away already. He had to catch her before she got busy again so he shouted out the first thing that popped in his head that he thought would make her stay.

"Hey, bar wench," he summoned.

Brows raised Samantha slowly turned around to face him hands firmly placed on her hips. "What did you just call me, Murphy?"

He couldn't tell whether she was pissed or if she thought the term amusing. Hoping for the best, he threw her an innocent little boy grin. "Me glass is dry. Can't a pretty bar wench like yerself come help me?"

After a second of blank staring, Samantha let her arms drop to her sides as she stalked over to where he sat. There was this tiny curl at the end of her lips as she got him a fresh glass. "Out of pure curiosity," she started.

"Aye?" He replied, sitting up straight.

She handed him his Guinness but didn't withdraw her hands. Instead she splayed them on either side of where his clasped the beverage. "Of all the things you could've called me, why that?" A wisp of her long hair had fallen out of place and now rested on her cheek but she paid no mind to it. All of her attention was focused on what was about to come out of the dark haired man's mouth.

He felt his shoulders move on their own accord. "Maybe et's the hair," he blurted.

Samantha suppressed the urge to touch her braid. She echoed him unable to find any other phrase to fill in the gap. "My hair? What about my hair?"

She stayed still as a statue as Murphy reached for her face to brush that disobedient strand of brown off her cheek. "Nothin'. Et's lovely. Ya just have a lot of et. Reminds me of the Middle Ages a smidge is all." Princesses and damsels in distress.

Was he flirting with her? She wondered. It wouldn't be the first time a guy's hit on her, but never like this. He was good, damn good that was for sure. And it wasn't like he was lacking in the looks department. His brother, too. Normal girls must melt under his piercing blue eyes.

Almost as if waking from a dream, Samantha jerked backwards. "Oh, right. Thanks, I guess?" Her eyebrow met momentarily then she patted him on the head. "Now you be a good boy while I'm gone, okeydokey? Bye, Conner." She gave them a lazy wave before at last returning to her sketchpad.

Doc had finished a few minutes ago so he had witnessed the exchange between Murphy and his niece and he didn't know how he felt about it. If it were any other girl, he'd tell Murph to go for it. He wasn't angry though like he would've been had it been any other guy except Conner of course. He hobbled over to where the pair resided.

"Hey, Doc," the boys greeted in union like all the twin stereotypes portray. It was funnier still whenever that happened (which was often) because neither of them realize they're doing it. He frowned. How was he supposed to tell them to back off? She needed protection, of that he was sure, as well as he wanted these two to be the ones who kept an eye on her when he couldn't.

"B-Boys, I need ya ta do somethin' f-for-r me." He paused before he let loose a "_Fuck! Ass!_"

They both fully straightened their spines. "Anythin'," Murphy promised.

"Whatever ya need," Conner nodded along.

He sighed. "I want ya both to make sure that nobody hurts me niece. She's-"

Conner nodded. "A 'delicate flower'. Yeah, we know, Doc. We'll take care of her." He was going to even if Doc didn't ask. He liked Samantha and she had such a sweet face. He didn't know how far some guys were willing to push to have their way with her but he intended to prevent that from ever happening.

The old man relaxed. There was no reason to warn them off. He felt a bit guilty for even thinking bad about the boys. "Thank ya." Pleased with everything he went to set up another tray for another waitress. He glanced over at his niece and she was back to scribbling again, more sparingly now with more controlled movements. I bet that's gonna be a real pretty picture once she's done," he thought.


	2. Morning at Uncle Norman's

It was about eight and Samantha was sprawled on the ancient couch still dressed in the clothes she went to bed in at 4:22 that morning. Playing with the drawstrings on her short pajama shorts, she contemplated giving her new apartment a taste of light housework. No offense to her Uncle Norman, but he was a bachelor that just got older. Sam was nowhere near a clean freak but she had her moments of need for cleanliness. Sighing she ruffled her loose hair knowing that she could very well stay on the couch all day and not do anything. Things were shaping out to be one of those days.

Doc hobbled in, dressed to leave. "Hey, Uncle Norman. Where you headed?" Sam pushed herself up just enough so that he wasn't talking to her stomach.

His face twitched into a half smile. "Mornin', dearie. I've got t-ta go run a f-f-few errands. I shouldna be gone long-g-g. _Fuck! Ass!_ Will ya b-be alright on yer own?"

Samantha leaned over the back of the couch to place a kiss on his wrinkled cheek. "I'll be fine, uncle. When do you think you'll be home?" He couldn't be any later than three. That's when they opened and it was a bit too early in her employment for Samantha to do it on her own.

"Oh, I'd say openin' t-time." He grabbed his walking cane and his hat then pecked a kiss on the top of his niece's head. "Enjoy yerself, sweet."

She called to his retreating back. "Be careful!" The front door closed a second later. She stood and stretched her arms above her head making the hem of her camisole ride up on her stomach. "Oh, _dios mio_!" She cried out before heaving a great satisfied sigh. Time to get this party started, she thought to herself.

She got to work immediately, mostly tidying up and putting things away that had been left out of sheer laziness. It wasn't long though before she decided she required a soundtrack to continue. Motivation exploded within her as the harsh chords of the electric guitar ripped through the air. She was a child of all music but she had to admit that when things needed to get done alternative rock was top dog in her book. Originally the volume was cranked way high because of the vacuum and she didn't care enough to turn it back down- or at least, that's the story she's sticking with.

When everything was finished, Doc still wasn't back. What's a girl to do when you've got two hours to spare? Samantha, thinking since nobody could see her, hopped onto the chest that served as the coffee table and danced like a mad person. She bounced from the chest to the couch then back again.

You could hear her joyous fun downstairs in the pub through the thin walls. It went disregarded by anyone until Murphy and Conner passed by to say hi to their favorite old barkeep. No Doc, no Samantha, but there sure was a lot of noise.

"What the fuck is that?" Conner wondered aloud.

Murphy made a face up at the ceiling. "I think it's coming from Doc's place." They both stared at the doorway that led up to the apartment then at each other. Should they go check…?

The sandy haired twin smirked at his opposite then made a mad dash for the stairs. Not wanting to be out done and have to listen his brother brag, Murphy shoved his way in front and didn't even think about knocking before he opened the door. Conner collided into his back sending them both into a crash landing. Limbs were entangled and they laughed until they saw a certain long haired girl wielding a kitchen knife in their direction.

The music was too loud for them to hear but they saw her mouth move and the strange expression on her face. There wasn't a single thought, no words came to mind. All they could do was freeze on the ground and stare at her. Samantha let the knife hang by her leg and pushed pause on the stereo. "Murphy?" She repeated. "Conner? What are you guys doing?"

"Ah-" Murphy started.

Conner blushed and stuttered out, "Well, ya see, we were just-"

She held up her free hand to stop the gibberish. "Are the both of you okay?" She asked slowly, taking hesitant steps towards them

They glanced at each other. "Yeah, why wouldn't we be?" Conner countered.

Finally she kneeled by them and tugged another knife out of the wall that was dangerously close to Murphy's head. "Oh, no reason," she replied airily, wiping the sheetrock off the blade on the corner of her shirt. "So, what's up?" She said so casually, tossing the knives onto the kitchen counter.

Both boys were cautious as they sat up not sure that it was entirely safe in there. "Uh, we heard the music from downstairs," Murphy informed her distractedly.

"Oh? Sorry 'bout that. I was cleaning." She gestured to the now orderly room then hopped over the back of the couch landing in the old cushions with a small 'oof!' She was quite proud of her handiwork. After going throughout the entire house, she now had a list of things to fix. There was a bucket under the kitchen sink to catch the dripping, the window wouldn't open in her room, light bulbs required changing. She had at least another two weeks' worth of repairs ahead of her.

Conner surveyed the room and gave a sarcastic nod. "I see."

"Hey, at least I'm not one of those women where my house always has to be clean and smell like candles!" Her nose automatically wrinkled at the very thought of becoming one of _those._ That was her babushka, and as much as she loved the old woman she could not become her or her daughter-in-law (aka, Sam's crazy ass mother to whom she has not spoken to since she got remarried).

Mustering all his courage, Murphy bent over Samantha's form and kissed her forehead. "Well, as long as you're okay…" He trailed off, drifting towards the refrigerator.

Men and their food, Samantha thought to herself. And me, of course. She waved at his back. "You boys help yourselves. I'd get up and play hostess, but I'm kind of tired." She yawned, stretching past the ends of the couch before collapsing into a lazy sprawl.

Conner scrambled to his feet, chasing down his brother and going for the box of pizza that had somehow been wedged into the bottom shelf in the fridge. "Hey, Samantha," he said around a full mouth. Not moving an inch, she grunted in response to let him know that she was listening. "Ya mind if we hang out here with ya? If not, we're gonna be back here in a few hours."

"No, no, you two stay. I've got some time on my hands to kill." Rubbing her fist into her eye, she propped herself up only to flop back down. For some reason she couldn't think of a single reason why she wanted to get up. Much more logical to relax.

The darker twin picked her legs up and sat down letting them lay across his lap. Her smooth skin had been tanned everywhere from running around in her urban jungle home with the sun shining down on her constantly. "So what do ya want ta do, lass?"

Due to her current position the shrug she gave in response was awkwardly done. "I dunno. I've got some movies in my room we can watch," she suggested, keeping her excitement under the surface.

Both of the young men agreed and she shot faster than a bullet to her new bedroom. The stack of DVD cases was sitting patiently on the floor exactly where she had left them. Taking this as a good sign, Samantha snatched them up and hurried back to where her houseguests waited.

From her enthusiasm, they both expected something along the lines of a chick-flick or a sappy romantic comedy. Neither looked forward to the next two hours but decided they wouldn't say anything or else they might hurt her feelings. They had no idea what kind of cinema Samantha preferred.

She bounced in front of them. "I've got _The Exorcism_, _The Cabin in the Woods_, _Quarantine_, _Chucky_, _The Roommate_, Stephen King's _It-_"

Conner cut her off. "Are these all horror movies?"

Sifting through her collection, she found a series. "This one's not."

"_Resident Evil_?" Murphy read slowly, putting emphasis on the last word of the title.

Again she began bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Yep! It's action, sci-fi, with a little horror thrown in because of the zombies," she clarified, not noticing the looks the boys were giving her.

"Zombies?" Conner echoed, taking the case. A gun slinging ginger stood dangerously on the cover looking ready to kill.

She nodded. "Yeah, but if we watch this, then we have to watch all six," she said tapping the plastic case. They gaped up at her. "What?" She replied innocently.

Murphy shook his head. "Nothin'. Just didn't peg ya for the whole blood and gore scene, that's all."

She gave him a flat look and crossed her arms over her chest. Even when she acted all annoyed Murphy could still see the curl at the corners of her mouth. "Why, because I have a vagina?" Conner choked on his pizza, coughing spastically.

Did she just say what they think she did? Murph slapped him hard on the back and his brother sucked in greedy gulps of air. "Do ya mind repeated the question?" He panted in disbelief.

"Do you think," Samantha enunciated, "that because I'm classified as female, I have to watch that fluffy junk other girls seem to love?"

"Well, it's what we were expecting," Murphy said. Seeing her glare, he quickly followed up with, "but I guess we were wrong. Pick whatever you want, love."

Rolling her green eyes she chose a random case. She didn't look at what was encrypted on the disc before popping it into the huge chucky player. "Popcorn?" She straightened and saw both Irishmen look away quickly. Upon closer inspection, Sam saw that both were blushing as they muttered what sounded like an affirmative.

Her hips swayed as she waltzed to the kitchen, seemingly without her realization. And those bronzed legs- Murphy shook the graphic images from his mind. This was Doc's niece he was fantasizing about! She let them into her house without question. If his mother knew what was going on in his head.

Four minutes later the salty scent of buttered popcorn filled the air. A slight smile on her face, Samantha calmly sat between the boys placing the big metal mixing bowl between her knees. Both men took a handful just as the main menu appeared. Conner's head swiveled to gape at the smaller person sandwiched between him and his brother.

"What?" She asked innocently, either playing coy or not understanding what he was so shocked about.

"The Ring?" Murphy clarified with a chuckle. He had never heard of it before but seeing the rest of her collection it was probably another scary movie. He couldn't get over the fact that a girl with a face as sweet as hers could adore horror flick.

Her hair swung out and nearly smacked Conner in the face as her head spun to face his brother. "Yeah, so? It's a fantastically fantastic movie that doesn't have the usual predictable American happy ending. Plus, I didn't pick it. The universe did. Or God, although I'm not sure whether or not such an important being has time to pick which movie we watch." Her lashes batted against her cheekbones a few times before she returned to the screen.

Without warning, she smacked Conner's leg making him jump. "Ow! Wha' the fuck was that for?"

Not apologizing or even recognizing his outburst, she pointed lazily at the TV. "Go press play." It was so simple. Not a demand but definitely not a question.

Murphy's shoulders shook with the silent laughter at seeing his twin's reaction. First, it was shock, then agitation, and finally acceptance as Conner actually got up and hit play like a good little pet. Murphy would've rolled right off the couch if Sam didn't grab his bicep full of total nonchalance as he teetered near the edge. How did she do that? The sandy haired twin marveled.

As he sat back down there was a silence, Murphy straining to keep a straight face, Samantha watching the screen with heavy lidded eyes, and Conner trying to focus on the opening credits. After a few seconds, Murph flicked his hand making the whip sound effect then busted out laughing again. His twin tried to tackle him but a small yet steady hand kept him at bay. He looked down and followed up the owner's arm up her neck to her perfect poker face.

Their position didn't make her uneasy in the slightest. "Conner," she said lowly.

He settled back into his previous seat. "Aye?"

"Are you done?" Nothing changed, not her monotonous voice or her blank expression. Quickly he nodded averting his eyes from her gaze in shame. Wait, why was he pretty much rolling over for this girl he barely knew?

Next she turned to Murphy who looked away just as ashamed and just as confused as to why. "Murph, I think you should let this one be."

"Sorry, Sam," he mumbled, the tips of his ears burning. Not unkindly she patted his knee and left her hand there. He acted as if it were no big deal although her touch sent electric shocks up his leg. Idly, he wondered if Conner could see.

Samantha smiled to herself as the movie played out. The television set on the screen came back to life and Sam felt her smile widen as the man turned around slowly. One dripping wet arm emerged and slowly but surely out came the little girl.

"HOLY SHIT!" Conner screeched nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw the water logged corpse's leering face. Samantha howled with laughter, slapping her knee as she nearly fell on top of Murphy. That had sent a blow to his ego and he glared at the laughing woman. "Et's not funny!"

"Et's not funny!" She mocked mimicking his accent perfectly, sending herself headlong into another fit of glee.

Murphy bit his lip and looked in the other direction trying his hardest not to join in. "Aye, Murph, what are you fuckin' laughin' at?" He fumed at him. His brother shook his head desperately his face going red with the strain it took to contain the laughter.

Only one of them heard the door open and Samantha propped her torso on the back of the couch still grinning as she waved. "Hi, Uncle Norman! Back so soon?" Her head dipped to the side adorably and the old man could resist her charms.

"Aye. Ya weren't too bored while I was gone, were ya?" He hung up his hat and coat on the rack not noticing the other two faces peering over the couch.

She shook her head. "Nah. Murphy and Conner came over so it wasn't too bad."

He smiled at the boys. "Did they now? 'ello, boys." They exchanged pleasantries as Samantha got down on all fours and began picking up the popcorn mess from the floor. That kernel war had been so much fun at the time that it qualified the meticulous job later so she was smiling as she remembered the all the laughs they had shared that morning.

"We'll be downstairs," Conner announced slapping his brother's back signaling that it was time to go.

"Be down in a minute," Sam called after them, dumping the metal bowl's contents in the trash.

Doc watched her curiously. "Didja have yerself a good mornin', Samantha?" He felt a little useless when it came to women and although she was charming the same went for his niece. He didn't know if he was doing enough to make her comfortable in her new home.

Samantha smiled demurely to herself as she quickly braided her long hair. "Yeah. It was more fun than I've had in a long time. Thanks for letting me stay." She touched his shoulder briefly before disappearing to her room to change into more proper attire.

She kicked her shorts over by her bed not really caring that they landed on a tall stack of books and tore through her suitcase in search of pants. Finding a clean set she hurriedly hopped from one leg to the other as she pulled the jean cloth up over her thighs. Too bad she couldn't go to work barefoot she mused as she slipped on the same sneakers from yesterday.

Next to her sneakers she saw a pain- excuse me, _pair _of heels her stepsister Monique gave her for Christmas. The day after Samantha had been tempted to toss the unwanted gift. Her mother would've thrown a fit though when she found out which was something everyone avoided at all costs so she decided against it in the long run. Maybe someday she thought, setting the heels back down. On her way out she grabbed her drawing pad with the picture she was working on and a pen.

Together the two bartenders headed downstairs where Conner and Murphy were already playing pool. Sam smiled at them as she ducked behind the bar. There she perched upon her stool with the pad on her knee and was soon sucked into her own private world. This allowed Murphy to watch her without the worry of her catching him. Now all he had to worry about was his brother until the guys showed up.


	3. Rain, Rain

As the days passed, Rocco and the others began to see what Murphy and Conner were talking about when they said that the new bartender was a little firecracker. Most of the time she was pretty easygoing but once you got her into a passion it was hard to stop her. Rocco found that out the hard way when he accidentally set her off on a gleeful rampage about work ethics. Normally she kept her mouth shut, which was refreshing to most of the guys, but boy could she talk when she it suited her.

And when she got all riled up into a rant like that her face got so animated, her green eyes lighting up like Christmas and she bounced in place. Murphy couldn't keep his eyes off her when she got like that. That was true for most any time though. He loved watching her. He liked being around her.

Murphy leaned on the counter smiling at Sam. "I enjoyed that movie the other day," he said referring to when Samantha introduced the twins to the Ring last week.

She returned the smile. "I'm glad. It's one of my favorites." She shrugged and handed him a fresh glass filled almost to the brim.

"We should do et again sometime," he blurted.

Her hands stopped moving for a moment as she processed what he said. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Yeah, that would be great. You doing anything this weekend? Uncle Norman is letting me off Saturday so I don't have to be back for opening."

He mulled it over. "I'm free Saturday. Ya got a movie in mind?"

"Well..." She bit her lip suppressing a grin. "We could always hang up at my place and have a monster marathon."

He smirked. "Why do I have a feeling that ya don't have anyone else ta trap into watchin' those movies with ya?"

She scoffed and swatted him with her rag making him laugh. "Murphy, you are such a jerk! Here I am, offering to educate you in the horror film industry and you have to go make fun of me!" The truth was, he was dead on. Nobody could handle as much as she could so she ended up watching them alone and she hated that.

Rolling his eyes he deflected the rag gently locking his fingers around her wrist. "How about this: you pick whatever movies you want and I'll bring somethin' to eat. Ya got a favorite candy?"

A blush rose in her cheeks. "You'll laugh at me," she whined.

"No I won't," he promised.

"Everyone does," she argued.

He pulled her closer by the wrist he still held prisoner. "Come on, Sam. I'm not gonna laugh. Promise."

She pouted playfully but said, "I like sugar daddies." Then she groaned and eased her arm free reaching for a beer for another customer. "That sentence is so awkward!"

He chuckled. "Et's funny when you get all riled up over nothin'. I'll get you some of those, okay?" When she beamed at him he felt himself smile broader. Her smile was so infectious it confused him beyond belief.

"That's sound fantastic," she chirped. "Will your brother be coming or will it be just us two?" If Conner was coming then she was choosing the one with the most surprise-from-around-the-corner, make-you-jump-out-of-your-skin film she could find. It was hilarious when he got frightened since neither of the brothers looked like they were easily scared.

He frowned to himself. "I don't know. I guess he will. Is that alright?"

She waved the question off. "You're both welcome in my home. If he comes great, if not so what? More pizza and popcorn for us." Sending a wink his way she headed down the bar to serve a group of rowdy guys.

Those rowdy guys turned out to be somewhat assholes. "Hi, what can I get you guys?" Samantha asked tapping her fingers in a strange rhythm on the wood.

One of them zeroed in on her chest. "Hm, how 'bout you on my lap, sugar tits?" He leered.

Her fingers drummed sharply but she smiled. She was used to dealing with guys treating women like meat. "Sorry. Took me off the menu yesterday. Anything I can get you to _drink_?" She clarified.

He faux pouted. "Aw, honey, you're no fun."

"So I've been told," she replied sliding both hands into her back pockets. "Now, would you like a drink or not? I've got thirsty customers waiting on me." Somebody, anybody, come save her from these jerks. She hated those tools who spoke so degradingly to women. Her daddy always told her that if a man spoke to her like that he deserved a swift kick in the ass, not her time. Thinking about the father she left behind in LA she felt a small ping in her chest. She called him every Tuesday when he was off work but she was so use to taking care of him that it made her feel useless.

The woman had been so absorbed in her own thoughts that she didn't realize that one of the other guys was reaching across the bar for her shirt. Blinking rapidly she swatted his hand away. "What the hell, dude?" She demanded angrily not expecting an answer but an apology.

They all snickered causing her to take a deep breath. Can't beat on customers in Uncle Norman's pub, she reminded herself. Even if they are total assholes.

"Is there a problem over here?" An Irish-lilt that brought a small smirk to Samantha's lips asked.

Conner waited with crossed arms as his brother stood beside him glaring at the not-quite gentlemen. "Well? Is there?" He reiterated, piercing blue gaze jumping from one man to the next.

The last guy stood and put his hands up. "'ey, no reason ta get testy," he said in an awful Irish accent sending his buddies into a fit of laughter.

The blond twin glared at him. "Actually there is. Ya see, we don't take ta kindly ta anyone givin' our lass a hard time. She don't deserve it and we like ta make sure that nothin' upsets her. Ya wouldn't be upsettin' our lass, woudja there?"

"I don't see your name on her," the first one growled getting up in Conner's face.

"I'm not property to be tagged," Sam bit off her arms crossing over her stomach in a huff.

The guy who had tried to grab her chest sneered at her. "Stupid fucking bitch needs to shut her fucking mouth." His arm whipped out but she caught his wrist before the back of hand could make contact with her cheek.

Giving a hard twist his face ended up pressing into the counter as he yelped in pain. His cry gained the attention of the majority of the patrons who hadn't already been watching the drama unfold.

Her face was void of any emotion, no guilt or anger to be found in her sparkling green eyes. "Now, that was a very naught thing to do. We don't hit girls here, do we?" We he offered no reply she rotated the joint a little further making him howl. "Do we?" She repeated a little harsher.

"N-No," he whimpered.

She smiled sinisterly. "Atta boy. Run along. And don't let me catch you misbehaving again, alright? I'd hate to have to teach you the same lesson twice."

Upon release the man hurried to cower between his friends who had made no move to help him. "Why the fuck didn't you guys do anything?" He hissed at them. They both just fumed at the girl on the other side of the bar who leaned her chin in the heel of her palm cool as a cucumber.

Conner smirked at the three men. "I think et's about time fer you three to get goin'. Dontcha agree, brother?"

Murphy chuckled darkly aching to show them how he felt about them mistreating their sweet girl. "Aye. Think they need some assistance findin' the door, Conn?"

"Well, we don't want ta be rude, do we?" He asked innocently as they advanced.

The first guy shook his head. "Let's get the hell outta here." With their tails tucked between their legs the three ran out the door most likely not to ever show faces around there again in fear of having a run in with the Irishmen or that crazy fucking bitch.

"You alright, Sam?" Murphy inquired quietly taking a step closer to her. She smiled and nodded grateful for his concern. He squinted at her. "Ya sure?"

She rolled her eyes as she walked out to meet him. "Murphy, trust me, it'll take more than a couple of jerks make me nervous. Thank you though, both of you." She kissed Conner's cheek and then put a hand on Murphy's cheek to do the same but her lips ended up landing on the corner of his mouth due to him turning his head to ask what she was doing. It made a blush rise in her cheeks and his ears flame but neither said anything as she went back to her previous station.

"Aye, ta the rest o' ya," Conner shouted. "Get back ta yer drinks. Et's over and done wit'." Mumbling they all did as instructed and the event was soon forgotten as the cheers went up as did the bottom of their glasses.

Samantha sighed. So much for not drawing attention to herself. She hadn't meant to lose her temper. He was going to hit her though and that did not fly in her book, promise or none.

A flash of another fist coming at her went through her mind but she quickly shoved it out. There was no reason to be thinking about that she scolded herself. That bastard is over a thousand miles away and has no clue where you are. She didn't enjoy running from her problems, it made her feel like a coward, but it was necessary in this case.

When Samantha woke up a few mornings later she wore a big grin on her face. It was Saturday! No work tonight and Murphy was coming over to hang out with her. Conner found himself a girl to occupy his time with so he wouldn't be coming but it bothered her none. Although he was quite funny he tended to sulk when he didn't get his way and she knew he'd be sulking for the first half hour of the movie which would make it slightly less enjoyable.

"Good morning!" Sam sang as she danced into the kitchen.

Her uncle chuckled. "Top-p o' da mornin' ta ya, too, dearie. What's-s-s got you is such a f-fine m-moo-ood?"

She beamed. "Oh, nothing. Just excited about the good things to come, that's all, Uncle."

"Well, I hope ya weren't plannin' on leavin' anytime soon. There's a s-s-s-st, s-s-stor-st, oh fuck, et's gonna rain. _Fuck! Ass!_" She peeked out the window and sure enough there were heavy clouds looming above. Her already huge grin widened making her face feel like it was going to fall off.

She loved storms but it only rained once or twice a year in LA. Of course, it was for almost three weeks straight when that happened but she hadn't minded it at all. It always frustrated her mother when she'd sneak out during the rainstorm and dance in the street since it wasn't very ladylike to do that as fifteen. Samantha couldn't care less though and was devising a plan to do just that in the alleys of Boston. How fun it would be!

That mass of dark clouds hovered, inching closer trying not to get caught as it crept up on their street. Murphy looked outside and swore catching his brother's attention.

Conner frowned at him as he slipped on his coat. "What's the matter with ya?"

"There's a fuckin' storm coming in," he informed him with a bit more attitude than Conner thought necessary. Raising his brows he waited for further explanation. "I was supposed ta go over ta Sam's, remember?"

He snorted. "How could I fucking forget. Ya haven't shut up about et all week." Silently his brother through the nearest object at him making him snort harder as it barely missed him. "Me little brother, in love," he sang the last word provoking the darker twin.

"Oh, shut the feck up, wouldja?" Murphy barked, throwing another nameless projectile across the room. He hated it when Conner tried calling him younger one. Still laughing Conner left to go see his latest girl- Sherrie, Charlene, something like that. Instead of dwelling much on the subject he began chewing on his thumbnail as he faced the window again. A little rain never hurt anybody, right?

A pounding on the door knocked Sam out of her daydreaming right onto the floor. "Jesus," she hissed picking herself up rubbing on her shoulder which she had landed hard on.

The pounding stopped for a brief second then resumed a little louder. "Alright already, don't get your panties in a twist. I'm coming!" She shouted, buttoning her jean shorts. She had picked up quite a bit of bad habits that were meant solely for guys in the eyes of the public. I.e., the aggressive playfulness, the swearing, her day-to-day dining manners, not liking to wear clothes, etc., etc. But then again, the feisty brunette was never one to mind rules all that well.

Murphy shook his head trying to rid himself of the excess water. Rain had just started pouring the moment before he ducked into the back stairwell leading to the apartment but it had been long enough to dampen his hair and blotches of his shirt. Gotta get a new jacket he thought sighing. His was old and starting to come apart- actually, we were well past that stage. It was now being held together by stitches.

He raised his fist to pound on the door again, thinking maybe she hadn't heard him the first two times when the door swung open. The pink mouth of the woman standing before him went from a pout to a small demure smile. "Hey, Murph. Went swimming, did you?"

He snorted sarcastically. "You gonna let me in or what, wuman?" He asked shoving his hands into his pockets.

She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the way allowing him to pass. He smiled his gratitude as he shrugged off his jacket and she took it from him carelessly hanging it up on the coatrack. "So, what have ya got in store for me today?" He asked. Although he didn't care too much for movies like Conner was he was ready to watch some gore fly.

The sneaky grin matched the mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I was thinking that maybe we could postpone the movie for a little while," she started, playing with the end of her braid.

He raised his brows. "And do what?"

In an instant she grabbed both his hands with hers and leaned into him so that he had to tuck in his chin to look her in the face. "Let's go play outside," she whispered excitedly.

A frown graced his lips. She sounded so young when she spoke like that, all childish passion. "Et's pourin' out there, Samantha," he stated slowly.

"All the more reason to go!" She squealed, jumping away and twirling. She looked much like a five year old getting excited over a trip to the water park.

"You'll catch yer death in the rain," he protested trying feebly to grab onto her.

He latched onto her arm and spun her around making her crash into his chest. "Oh, Murphy!" She whined. "I wanna go play in the rain. Please, Murph, please?"

"Since when did ya need my permission to do anything'?" He asked with a chuckle more than ready to give into that pouting bottom lip.

She tugged on his arm. "I want you to come with me, of course," she laughed. He tried to protest but quickly caved and allowed her to pull him down into the alley.

Letting her head hang backwards between Samantha grinned deliriously. She welcomed the pelting rain sliding over her too warm skin and soaking her clothes. Her arms raised and she sighed happily not noticing Murphy standing behind her awkwardly. Sure, he had played in the rain before back in Ireland as a boy, but it seemed so long ago. He had all but forgotten and felt as awkward as he looked.

"Rain, rain, come play with me," she sang.

He chuckled. "Sam, et's 'rain, rain, go away'," he corrected lightly. He didn't want to ruin her fun but he liked teasing her.

Spinning around she pointed up at him smirking. "You shut your dirty mouth, Murphy MacManus!"

"Or what?" He challenged. "Yer gonna wash et out with soap?"

Her face screwed up. "Somebody needs to," she sniffed, jogging off down the alley.

"Sam, wait! Where ya goin' now?" He shouted after her.

"Follow me and see," she replied over her shoulder. She jumped up on some rubbish and climbed up to grasp the bottom rung of the old rusted ladder propelling it down to her friend. Quickly she scaled the rungs that led her straight to the roof not pretending not to linger occasionally for him to catch up if he fell behind.

She stood hands on jean clad hips atop an air duct. "Hola, amigo! Como estas?"

"I'm fucking soaked," he replied, only half serious.

She pouted at him dramatically. "Oh, boo hoo. It's easy to complain about not having shoes until you see somebody without feet, so buck the hell up before I push you off," she mock threatened jumping down onto the concrete.

"Yer not nice," he faux chided reaching around the back of her neck to tug on the long tail resting there.

Her eyes glazed momentarily but she quickly blinked it away and pouted. "Whoever accused me of being nice?" She gave him a playful shove as if to prove her point.

He snickered. "Alright. Ya had yer fun. Let's get yew inside and get ya dry, huh?"

She sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll come. But you do not get to watch me undress," she said stalking over to the ladder.

_Damn shame,_ he thought, watching the top of her brown head disappear over the ledge.

* * *

This is Meow Meow, wondering what you think. Going in the right direction? Yes, no, maybe so? I'm all ears, guys and dolls.


	4. Chapter 4

After they got back inside and removed their wet clothes they watched some random movie that Murphy had been having a hard time paying attention to. Over her baggy sweats Samantha was wearing was an oversized white shirt with her long hair soaking it translucent. She barely seemed to realize as she sat beside him watching the movie with heavy lidded eyes.

Not ten minutes after the credits rolled they had passed out on top of one another curling up like puppies. Legs entangled, Murphy's hand knotted in Samantha's long partially damp hair, her face buried in his bare chest. This was the sight Conner and Doc walked in on.

They both stood there not sure how to react. Samantha mumbled something in Spanish that Doc couldn't understand but Conner translated to a sleepy, "Too hot outside." Murphy shifted and his other arm moved to pull her higher up on his chest so that she was breathing into the crook of his neck. The petite brunette gripped his bicep and sighed happily making him shiver. It was like they were having a conversation in their sleep, telling each other something their audience couldn't decipher.

Doc finally reached forwards to gently shake his grandniece's shoulder. "H-Hey there, lass, time to wak-k-ke up."

Her head popped up eyes cloudy before she tiredly slumped back onto Murphy. "I don' wanna," she whined quietly nuzzling the curve where the man's neck met his shoulder. She had absolutely no clue where she was or who she was on top of. All she knew was that she was comfortable, warm, and really, _really_ did not want to get up.

Fed up Conner slapped his brother's chest hard making him give a sharp yelp. In an instant Samantha was practically falling off the other side of the couch yelling, "Ash, don't!" Her eyes wild, panicky, and scary alert. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession as she tried to breathe at all.

Murphy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes grumbling but reached out towards the startled Samantha once he saw that terror-stricken expression on her face. For a moment she hesitated then allowed him to pull her back into his lap. "Hey, sh, sh, et's alright, love. Yer fine. Just breathe. Can ya do that fer me?" Weakly she nodded into his arm refusing to meet anyone's gaze as she slowly but surely returned to a normal breathing pattern.

Once she was steady she silently pushed away from the dark haired twin to stare blankly up at the other two who had so rudely interrupted her good dream. "Hey, guys, what's up?" It took all her concentration to make her voice neutral instead of angry of scared. Please don't ask, she prayed, please, please, please don't ask.

Thankfully they didn't. "Just checking up on ya," Conner drawled. He took in their ragged appearances with a quirked brow. "So what 'ave you two been up to?" She shrugged and Murphy groaned.

"Didja know Sam here likes playin' chase in the rain?" He said playfully nudging his friend who cracked a smile for his sake. Satisfied, he got up to locate his shirt and sweater which had both mysteriously gone missing. He vaguely remembered Sam helping him take them off but he had been so focused on her hands that he had no clue where he had been at the time.

As if reading his mind Samantha's arm rose pointing lazily down the hall. "In the bathroom, hanging up in the shower." He threw a lopsided smile in her direction then dashed off in the direction she directed.

"Samantha," Doc drew out then paused, unsure of how to proceed. He never had children to raise only his bar and its drunken patrons. And she was a grown adult and Murphy was a good boy in his eyes. He sighed pushing his glasses out of place as he tiredly rubbed his face.

His niece gazed up at him with sweet innocent green eyes. How could he say anything harsh towards them? He sighed again and kissed her crown. "Hope ya h-h-had a good time, love." Then he headed back downstairs where the thirsty customers were awaiting his stutter and ever present jolliness.

Before he closed the door behind him he heard a soft, "Thanks," that nearly broke his heart. Could he ever yell at her, say unkind words to his delicate little girl? He doubted it. He was already too in love with her charm and sweet smiles and the way she left people a little happier than when she they came in.

Conner smirked at her for a long time. "So, I know yer not fuckin' me brother, but are ya tryin' to?"

Those were the words that had Murphy pausing around the corner. He knew that neither Sam nor Conner would appreciate being eavesdropped on but he couldn't resist.

"Holy hell, Conner!" She groaned rubbing the back of her skull forcefully. "Do you always have to do that? I can't hang out with your brother and accidently fall asleep on him after a movie without wanting to _'fuck'_ him?"

"Do ya?" He pressed, his smirk curling a little further.

Indignantly she stood pulling a blanket from the back of the couch around her shoulders. "Murphy won't like you talking to me like that, boy-o. You should watch your mouth," she warned.

He snickered as he followed her around the living room watching her clean up the slight disarray. "Do ya?" He pressed a little harder.

She sighed. "Conn, I like Murphy, I do. But I just got out of a relationship that didn't end so well." Her head ducked as her eyes clouded over with the memories.

"You mean with Ash?"

She flinched then covered it quickly by straightening her shoulders. "Unfortunately, yes," she hissed. "And no, I don't want to talk about him or what happened between us so don't bother asking, cause I'll just slap you." She paused seeing the expectancy on the blonde's face. "As for your brother…"

Murphy sucked in a quick breath, not sure whether he wanted to thank his twin or pound him into the ground. It'll all depend on her answer, he guessed.

A small demure smile found its way slinking onto her face as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know if he'll ever want to _sleep with me_, but I wouldn't mind, if I got know him a little better." He thought it was so cute how she put stress on the more politically correct phrase. She wasn't a prude and that made it all the funnier.

Conner snorted roughly. "Murph wants ye bad, lass. Don't ya go 'round thinkin' otherwise. He goes on about ya for hours." What he didn't say was that he could do it to, but in a proud older brother way.

Murphy decided that he'd wait to kill him after he thanked him. He didn't go on for hours! How dare he make him sound like some lovesick puppy.

"You're fucking crazy, Irishman," she laughed. "Or at least delusional. Murphy doesn't like me like that. He's way too sweet for a girl like me."

"What about a sweet lass like you?" Murphy asked smiling as he ruffled his disheveled hair. It was a habit he'd seen Sam do many a time, when she was nervous or when she was bored or getting aggravated. Conner guessed he just picked it up to go along with all his little fidgety quirks from being around the girl so often.

Sam grinned. "Well there you are. Thought you were getting ready for the prom in there. You take more time getting dressed than a teenage girl!" She giggled and tossed the blanket into a heap on the couch then went to hug him.

By habit his arms tightened around her waist pulling her towards him. "Thanks for hanging out with me today, Murph," she said low enough that Conner couldn't hear her. He liked the intimacy she was portraying even though it was so innocent.

He ghosted his lips over the shell of her ear as he spoke. "My pleasure, Samantha." She tensed then shivered under his words, backing out of his hold a little hastier than normal with a blush dancing across her cheeks.


End file.
